


Aftermath

by Temporal_Stellar



Category: Young Dracula
Genre: Gen, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8012347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temporal_Stellar/pseuds/Temporal_Stellar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Count Dracula is known to have a serious phobia of UV light. But why does he have this fear? This is why. Based just after Season 2. (One-Shot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot I came up with a while ago, I just never had chance to write it. Hope you all like it.

Ingrid flitted out of the room, going at an instance speed due to her rage that appeared to have been fuelled by insanity.

With her gone, the Count’s predicament seemed a little better… and worse, a lot worse.

There was nothing left to distract the Count from the UV bars that surrounded him.

He could almost feel them, like they were radiating some kind of heat. That just made them all seem like they were moving inwards, getting closer and closer to him and to burning his skin.

The Count flinched, and turned to face his son praying that that he was still alive in some form. The idea that Vlad was the Chosen One was a source of delight for the Count, but also of great worry because now Ingrid was not the only threat.

The fact that such a highly trained slayer had shown up the same time as ceremonies couldn’t have been a coincidence, he must have been here to kill the next Grand High Vampire which meant that he was targeting the Dracula heir he just didn’t realise it.

 _His mistake_ , the Count thought to himself. Of course the Slayers would never think that a vampire child would pose no threat, Dracula or not. Their arrogance was their greatness weakness, they had the same weakness as the vampires did. They scoffed at the idea of a young pre-transformed vampire being the Chosen One, and now they had all paid the price.

But so had Vlad.

“Vladimir,” The Count said in an attempt to rouse his son. Vlad seemed to move slightly at the sound of his father’s voice.

“Vladimir?”

Vlad moved again and groaned.

The Count reached forgetting about the UV bars, cried out when he felt the burning pain in his hand and rushed back.

Then the waiting began. The bars seemed to grow closer and closer all the time.

Then there were the screams, the screams of the innocents Ingrid was taking out her rage on.

In the past, the Count had scoffed and scorned his own son for seeing human life as precious. As a vampire it was easy to see humans as inferior, after all they were slow, weak and didn’t have special abilities. However, over the years they had been proving themselves, to the point where they were a serious threat to vampire-kind. The rise of the Slayers almost 200 years ago had proven that, if a single slayer could come to Transylvania and nearly kill Count Dracula himself who knew what many more were capable of.

That was why the Count had run from the peasant mob, because he had learnt all too well how dangerous humanity really was.

Right now though, they were once again the weaklings vampires always saw them and screams only reminded the Count of his predicament.

All around there was dust, the remains of dead vampires, the result of the battle acting as a reminder to the Count of what would happen to him should he hit the bars or should Ingrid return. There was Vlad laid on the flooring, looking as close to dead as he ever dead, the only time Vlad looked this bad was when he slipped into the dream world. Then of course there was the screams that seemed to get closer and closer, and served only to remind the Count of his daughter’s betrayal.

Suddenly the UV cage seemed to flicker, like there was some form of interference, and then disappeared.

The Count reached out flinching to find his hand passed through with ease, causing him to sigh in relief.

He then rushed over to his son rolling him gently onto his back.

“Vladimir. Vlad…” the Count paused pressing a hand to his sons face. “Vladdy.”

“Uhhh,” Vlad groaned quietly, his eyes opening slowly. “Dad?”

The Count sighed again. “I didn’t think you were alive.”

Vlad began to pull himself up. “Neither did I.” His eyes met his father’s. “I’m sorry… I tried to tell you…”

The Count held up a hand silencing his son. “You did tell us, but no one would listen. I believed you Vladimir, but unfortunately that slayer came in before I could say anything. I know you would never lie about such a thing. Do not apologise for you are, or what you have done. You did them with the best intentions and that is what matters. Especially when you did save us.”

“Yet so many still died,” Vlad muttered, still struggling to pulling himself up because of how weak he was.

“And they will not be the last either,” the Count said, gaining a worried look from his son. “If we do not leave Ingrid will kill us.”

Vlad looked confused. “Why would she do that?”

“She… appears to have gone insane due to… _her boyfriends_ death.” The Count said the words between his teeth. “She is currently in Stokely, taking out her vengeance on the villagers.”

Vlad’s eyes widened, his face full of fear and guilt. “We have to stop her!”

The Count shook his head abruptly. “No Vladimir. Her attack started over an hour ago, it’s too late now. If we face her we do not know what will happen, more people may get hurt including us. If you wish to protect people you have to do what it takes to stay _alive_ , so you can protect those in need when you are ready.”

Vlad nodded reluctantly. “Okay. You’re right… we… we should go.” He stuttered the words, he didn’t want to leave but he knew full well that he had to. The Grand High Vampire himself had told him as much.

* * *

 

Leaving Stokely was difficult.

For Vlad it was difficult because of his emotional ties.

For the Count it was any source of light. The moment Vlad and himself rushed outside to the highly deceived Renfield the Count found himself flinching when he met with the moonlight.

This concerned, the already worried, Vlad. “Dad, are you okay?”

The Count looked at his son. “I’m fine Vladimir, I’m fine. Are you…”

“I’m not great,” Vlad said, while gripping his toy monkey tightly. “But I will be.”

At that moment, the Count realised that Vlad was not just talking about himself he was talking for all of them, and the situation.

Things were bad now, but they would get better.

They had to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading and please feel free to review


End file.
